


The War of the Five Kings

by Will_Thor69



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 11:51:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4834277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Will_Thor69/pseuds/Will_Thor69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With times of war soon to come, the great Houses of Westeros must carefully plan their alliances and maneuvers if they are to survive the coming conflict. Lannister and Baratheon, Tully and Stark, Tyrell and Martell... All must choose who they march with, and who they march against.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Cold Winds Blow

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate universe setting in which the War of the Five Kings is very different than the one we see in the books. Also, comments are highly appreciated. Thank you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conflict to come begins in King's Landing.

The rain was warm on Eddard Stark's face like a maiden's kisses as he and his men exited the brothel. Littlefinger stalked in front of Ned, drawing the hood of his cloak up over his head as the war rain fell into his hair. Ned and his men mounted their horses, beginning the trot back to the Tower of the Hand. Looking up to the top of the city, Ned saw the walls of the Red Keep red like blood, staring down at him sullenly. As the party moved up the city's three hills towards the castle, suddenly a mass of men ran from an alley in front of them to form a roadblock. 

Cursing and turning his horse, Ned was dismayed to see more armed and armored men standing behind his men. He turned his sword and saw a mounted, fully armored man removing his helmet. Before the helmet was off, Ned knew who it was. The lion's head helmet gave it away. Ser Jaime Lannister shook his hair out and looked at Ned, a daring smirk on his lips and a dangerous spark in his eyes. 

"Lord Stark," Jaime said, smiling as he looked at Ned, "My brother Tyrion has run into some trouble on the Kingsroad. I'm sure you remember him from the feast at Winterfell, right? A small man, with a love for drink?"

"Tyrion was taken captive by my wife, on my orders, to answer for his crimes." Ned said, keeping his hand near his sword.

"You had best write to her, then, before the lion and wolf are at each other's throats." Jaime laughed, looking at the men behind Ned. "Is that the captain of your household guard? He has the look of a stablehand!" Ser Jaime laughed, taunting Ned. "We should teach Lord Stark a lesson, but we shan't kill him. So... kill his men." Jaime laughed and turned his horse around, the beast trotting away. 

" _NO!"_ Ned screamed, digging his heels into his horse. The beast's hoof smashed into the face of a Lannister guard, the man falling to the stone road with a sickening  _crunch_. Jory and the others had their swords drawn and were standing back-to-back, rotating around as the Lannister men surrounded them. Ned would never forget how he left them to die. 

Ned and his horse tore down the street. Ned could see Jaime's snow-white cloak flapping in the wind as he charged. He rode down smallfolk as he tried to run. Looking back over his shoulder, Ned saw that the fighting had ceased. Where ten Lannister guards had stood, now there were six... and where Jory and the others had stood, now bloody bodies slumped. Ned looked forward, gritting his teeth. He heard the shouts of the Lannisters who had killed his men behind him and heard the scrape of steel on stone as they tried to throw their spears into his horse. 

The rain continued to beat down on the city as Ned chased Jaime. The cobblestone street was slick with water, and the smallfolk watching the spectacle hooted and hollered at the two men on horseback. 

"Get off your horse, Jaime!" Ned screamed, grief and rage in his voice.

"Run back to your fat fucking king!" Jaime yelled back.

 _Very well..._ Ned thought, and unsheathed his sword.

Digging his heels into his horse, the beast streaked forward, its breath steaming in the air. Ned brought his arm back and brought his longsword forward in a sweeping arc, cutting off Jaime Lannister's horse's leg. The beast toppled to the ground, bleeding and screaming pitifully. Jaime flew to the cobblestones with a loud crash as his steel armor smacked into the stone. Jaime recovered quickly, however, and slashed out Ned's horse's leg. The beast fell to the ground. Ned unceremoniously flew to the ground. Jaime was already in a stance with his sword pointing at Ned.

"You Starks don't know when to give up, do you?" Jaime laughed, slashing at Ned's head. Ned brought up his steel to block the blade, and Jaime slashed again at Ned's arm. Ned dodged the blow and thrust toward Jaime's eyeslit, but the blade glanced off an enameled steel helm as Jaime turned his head to the side. Suddenly, Ned heard screamed behind him and quickly looked back. Seeing Littlefinger leading fifty gold cloaks towards him was a welcome sight, but Ned din't get to relish it for long. Jaime Lannister thrust his longsword into Ned's leg and out the back. 

Falling to the ground screaming in pain, Ned looked up as Jaime prepared to stab him in the chest. Jaime's sword arced downward, but somehow Ned drew from a primal place within himself and blocked the blade with his own hand. Gripping the blade so tight it cut his palms, Ned held the blade as Littlefinger and his guards came. It took three gold cloaks to wrestle the sword from Jaime's armored hands. After that, Jaime still tried to fight them. Nine of the guards had to surround Jaime to stop him from fighting. In the end, Ned was on a litter, bleeding from his leg. Jaime was cursing and screaming, his hands chained behind his back, tied to a horse. Littlefinger occupied the litter with Ned, smiling and looking down at him.

"Oh, my lord of Stark..." the small man said, "You truly have no idea what you've done." 

 


	2. Intrigue and Alliances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned, Robert and Cersei talk after the fiasco in the streets of King's Landing.

The wraiths rode next to Ned Stark as the tower came into view. They were seven against three, and the white-armored Kingsguard that stood at the base of the tower looked at the seven northerners, sadness and resignation on their faces. Ned had forgotten the faces of those who rode with him and died for him, which pained him to no end- but the faces of those he fought against, those damned Kingsguard knights, were branded into his memory forever. 

"We missed you on the Trident." Eddard said.

"We were here, on Rhaegar's orders. A shame were weren't with him; you and your rebel king would be dead, and our lying brother Jaime would be in the deepest of the seven hells." Arthur Dayne said. 

"Robert will make Jaime answer for his crimes. I swear you that." Ned said, looking into Arthur's sad eyes. 

"And now it begins." Arthur said, his voice tinged with sadness. He unsheathed Dawn, its blade as pale as milkglass. 

"No. Now it ends." Ned sighed, and charged. 

They were seven against three, but at the end, only two men stood. Howland Reed stood with Ned Stark, standing outside the tower as Ned entered it. He found his sister Lyanna dying on a bed of blood, a smile dancing across her face as she saw her brother. He remembered holding her, the warmth in her body fading as she died. He remembered the smell of the winter roses she had loved so much, and he remembered her last words. 

_Promise me, Ned..._ He remembered those words as she sighed out her last breath, her beautiful grey eyes closing forever.

"I promise, Lya." he had said, so, so long ago... 

Afterwards, he and Howland had torn down the tower to build cairns for those who had died. He and Ned had ridden to Starfall to give Ashara Dayne Arthur's sword. He remembered the sadness in her voice as she thanked him. Not long after that, she had killed herself. 

Remembering all the pains of his past, Ned was sad to wake into the present. He woke and saw he was in a room with Vayon Poole standing with him, by the side of his bed. His hands were wrapped with soft bandages, his cuts sore and raw. Vayon scurried from the room as Ned moaned. His lips and mouth were as dry as the Dornish desert, his lips cracked and dry. Grand Maester Pycelle entered the room with Vayon, holding a flask. He held it to Ned's lips. 

"Water, my lord. Drink." Ned drew a long sip from the flask, quenching his horrible thirst. "Robert has asked to see you as soon as you woke, my lord." Pycelle said, his maester's chain jingling. 

"Please, send him away. I won't have the king seeing me like this." Ned said. The last thing he wanted to do was talk with Robert. 

"I'll have none of that. Leave us." Robert entered the room, a flagon of wine in his hand. Much to Ned's dismay, Queen Cersei walked in behind Robert, her skirts trailing behind her. The Grand Maester exited the room, bowing as best he could to the king and queen. 

"Drink, damn you." Robert said, handing Ned a flute. Ned weakly reached up and accepted it, his arm growing weak as Robert filled it with dark purple wine. 

"Thank you, my king." Ned said. He knew Robert didn't care about courtesies coming from his friend, but after Jaime's arrest, Ned didn't want to inflame the king or queen. 

"Eddard, do you know what your wife has done?" Robert asked, taking a long draw from his flute of wine as he finished his sentence. 

"My king, she is at no fault. She only acted on my orders as Hand. If you wish me to, I can write her and ask her to free Tyrion." Ned said.

"Lord Stark, there is no use. My brother is already on trial at the Eyrie for the attempted murder of your son... which he did not commit." Cersei said, her voice dripping venom.

"Ned, the Hand is supposed to keep the king's peace, not start chases in the street!" Robert said, his voice full of exasperation.

"Begging your pardons, Robert, but what peace is that? You allowed Lannister guards to attack my men and I in the street. You sent hired knives after a fourteen year old girl and leave the ruling of the realm to a council of pampered whisperers and flatterers." Ned argued loudly.

"Look at the way he speaks to you, husband. Any man who spoke to a Targaryen king would have been executed for that insolence." Cersei's smile and perfect teeth shot daggers at Ned as she stared at him on the bed.

"Are you saying the Targaryens were better than me?" Robert's voice was full of rage as black as Baratheon hair.

"Would that you were half as strong a ruler as Rhaegar would have been. Look at the way you rule the realm now, Robert. You should wear the skirts, and I the steel." Cersei said.

Robert's hand flew out in a backhand, smashing Cersei on the face. She stumbled backwards, grabbing a dresser for support. She looked up at Robert, her emerald eyes swimming with rage and hatred. 

"I shall wear this as a badge of honor." she spat at him. 

"Wear it in silence, or I'll honor you again. Get out of here." Cersei gathered her skirts about her and rushed from the room, with what little dignity Robert had let her keep. 

"I should not have hit her like that. It was not... kingly." Robert took a lengthy draw from his wine, drowning out his mistake. 

"Robert, please, I have something to tell you-" Ned was about to tell Robert everything he knew about Jaime and Cersei, but before his lips could form the words, Robert had the Hand's badge of office in his hand.

"Ned, Jon Arryn was a great Hand. He ruled the realm while I drank, hunted and whored for years. I... have not been a good king, I fear. I never felt so alive as when we were fighting for this throne, and I never felt so dead as now that I have it." Robert's voice grew heavy with sadness and exhaustion. 

"You have been a good king, my friend." Ned tried to say.

"No, I haven't, Ned. You know that. Don't flatter me like all the other lords do. I need you now more than I did when we rose against the dragonlords, Ned. I need you here, ruling the realm with that frozen head of yours- not up in Winterfell, hundreds of leagues away from the capitol. Please, Ned, for the realm- stay here." Robert said.

"Call Stannis back, my king. He will be as faithful a Hand as anyone-" Ned started to say.

"Ned, I'm sorry, but I need you. Take up the office again, or I swear, I'll pin this damned thing on Jaime Lannister." Robert tossed the Hand's token of office on to Ned's chest as he lay in bed, and then exited the room.


	3. The Throne Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned listens to the appeal from the river lords and their peasants as they give an account of the raiders that descended on their lands.

Ned sat on the Iron Throne, not envying all the kings who had sat on the thing before him.

Twisted barbs of metal sat behind him, making it impossible for him to lean back. Bent and warped sword blades stuck out of the armrests, blade sticking up between the fingers of the man who sat in the throne. It was hard, and cold, and sharp; if the legends could be believed, men had died upon the hunk of twisted, warped blades. The peasants standing before the throne looked at the seat with awe and bewilderment written plain across their windblown faces.

"Tell the Lord Hand what you told me." Karyl Vance said, addressing the kneeling peasants before him. He said these were all that remained of the peasants of Sherrer, a village in the Riverlands. 

"Milord, I saw everything. A band o' brigands came howling outta the fields, riding down our villagers, slaughtering others. They burnt our fields and slaughtered our livestock, fired our houses and businesses. My 'prentice boy, milord, the toyed with him in the field like they were cats and he was a mouse. They poked him with their lances while he fell and screamed, until the big one ran him through when he got through." the man said.

"The big one?" Eddard asked.

"A sure giant, Your Grace." the man began.

"His Grace is hunting in the Kingswood. This is the Hand of the King, Lord Eddard Stark." Karyl Vance corrected. 

"My apologies, milord. He was a huge man on a huger horse, all in steel plate, like a portable fortress, begging your pardons." the man cleared his throat. "He was near eight feet tall, with a voice like thunder, who wielded a greatsword as a lesser man might wield an arming sword." 

"The villagers tell me that they piled into their holdfast. The walls are made of stone, so the brigands moved on. The big one said something about riper fruit upriver." Karyl said.

"Wendish Town and the Mummer's Ford were raided as well, near as brutal, by the same men." Ser Raymun Darry said.

"And where were these villager's lords when their people were being butchered?" Ned asked.

"We were in a pass in the Golden Tooth, answering a call from Edmure Tully, guarding the pass against a possible Lannister invasion of Tully lands." Raymun said aggressively, suddenly angry. 

"And what do you want us to do? The lords of these lands are back in their holds, and the brigands have left." Littlefinger said, from the council table beneath the throne. 

"Vengeance for those who died. Justice!" Karyl Vance shouted. 

"How can we hunt down a disbanded band of brigands?" Renly Baratheon asked from the council table. 

"Did these men bear any devices? Banners, favors, ornaments?" Ned asked the peasants. 

"No, milord. Plain armor, plain cloaks, no banners or devices." a man said, looking down at his feet.

"How are we supposed to find them?" Renly openly laughed. 

"Who else in Westeros is eight feet tall, than the Mountain That Rides?" Raymun Darry said.

"Why would Gregor Clegane, an anointed knight with lands and titles, turn brigand?" Ned asked.

"We don't believe he is a brigand, my lord. We believe he was on orders from Tywin Lannister. The realm has been a tinderbox after your wife kidnapped Tyrion Lannister, begging your pardons, my lord." Raymun Darry said. 

"There are many tall men in Westeros, Lord Eddard. What makes this man different from any other?" Pycelle said from the council table. 

"Why would brigands have castle-forged steel weapons and steel plate armor? Armored warhorses and steel-tipped lances?" Karyl Vance stated. 

"Lord Eddard, we are here before you today to ask for permission to retaliate against the Clegane men." Darry said.

"Why would you seek vengeance and not justice, my lords?" Ned asked. 

"Justice for their crimes and vengeance for our dead, my lord." Vance said, lifting his chin high. 

"And would you raid and murder Gregor's peasants, as he did to you?" Ned asked, leaning forward on the chair.

"No, my lord. We would execute those who wronged us and send their heads here, my lord." Raymun said, his chin in the air, pride in his voice. 

"And who shall I send to bring the king's justice, if your soldiers are off on Edmure's orders?" Ned inquired. 

"I volunteer, Lord Hand!" Ned hear a voice from the side of the throne room. Out walked Loras Tyrell, all in blue silks with a belt of golden roses. His brown curls fell lazily about his face. 

"Ser Loras, you are a boy of sixteen. Why should I send you over more experienced men?" Ned asked. 

"I have proved my valor, my lord. I have fought in tourneys and would have won the tourney thrown in your honor, my lord, if Gregor had not tried to kill me." At the mention of Gregor's name, Loras' voice turned bitter. 

"Very well. Ser Loras, I command you to summon one hundred of your own retainers and ride north to dispense the king's justice. Lord Vance, Lord Darry, lend Loras fifty of your own men each. Ser Loras, I give you leave to select fifty of my own household guard for your task." Ned said. The Tyrell boy was beaming, smiling, his brown doe eyes streaming with excitement. With much effort, Ned pushed himself to his feet.

"I, Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell, Hand of the King, do hereby strip Lord Gregor Clegane of all lands, holdings and titles, and do sentence him to death." It made Ned feel sick to send another man to do his killing, but with Jaime having run his leg through, he sadly did not have a choice. 

Ned was endlessly thankful that that was the last court hearing of the day. He reached for his cane and started to hobble towards the king's door, but before he reached it, Varys was next him.

"That was a good move, my Lord Hand." Varys said, his voice low. 

"What was a... good move?" Ned quizzically asked. 

"Men soon to go to war against the Lannisters would do well to have Tyrells at their backs." And with that, Varys faded back into the court, leaving Ned to return to the Tower of the Hand. 

 

 


End file.
